


A Dragon Reborn

by Ramzes



Series: Targaryens: Times of Glory [13]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 22:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dragon can be defeated, and humiliated, and broken. But it can also be reborn. This is the story of Daella Targaryen, from broken to victorious. A follow up to One to Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The huge purple eyes were staring at her with admiration. The small hand reached for her pearl earrings and she was quick to draw her head back before he could reach for her ears. She knew from experience that the tiny hand with nails that had finally grown fully could have a grasp that was too firm. She took her sapphire bracelet of rose gold off and gave it to him. Fascinated, he started shaking it, thrilled with the delightful clinking noise it made against the marble floor.

Daella Targaryen smiled and looked at the other child who had just slipped in. Little Rhaelle tripped over her curtsy but managed not to fall down and Daella clapped her hands. Quite proud of herself, Rhaelle ran to her aunt and threw herself in Daella's lap. "I am a pony!" she announced and started whinnying and rocking. Daella held her tight and started rocking along, wondering whether ponies had become her niece's new interest. Before, Rhaelle had been a toad for two weeks straight.

Jaehaerys was looking at his sister, amazed. "Stupid," he finally said. "Elle… stupid.'

"Not stupid!" Rhaelle cried and stuck out her tongue at him before shooting upward and out of the hall, no doubt remembering that she had something important to do.

Daella looked at Jaehaerys and laughed. "She isn't stupid, my dear. Rhaelle is happy. It's such a lovely day, we should all be happy. Try to say _Rhaelle_ , little one."

Jaehaerys nodded. "Elle," he said again, unable to pronounce his sister's name the right way.

Daella laughed again but this time, her laughter was a little sad. A little envious. Lately, it had started to become clear that while Jaehaerys' premature birth had some lasting effects on his health, it had not harmed his intelligence. Not quite two-year-old, he was a darling and smart one… and he should have been hers. They all should have. Especially Duncan, with his dark hair and indigo eyes, completely unlike his parents' colouring. And exactly like Daella's.

She shook her head, trying to chase off these thoughts. She had forgiven her siblings long ago. She had. And if she wanted to be fair to herself, she had to admit that in many ways, Egg and Rhae made a better couple than she and Egg. They were quite a rarity for a royal couple, Targaryens who had wed for love…

Still, it hurt. Maybe it would stop in time, when she had a new husband and a family of her own. Now that she was back at King's Landing, she was the most sought woman in the Seven Kingdoms… and yet, when she looked at all the lords who were presented to her as prospective husbands, she felt nothing. No, that was not quite right: in too many of them, she found things that brought on memories she'd rather forget: a booming voice, an overconfident stagger, hairy hands able to squeeze until she screamed…

She sighed and stood up. She'd better leave if she were to attend the Queen before dinner, as she was expected to. She had come without warning, hoping to find her sister here but Rhae and Aegon had gone out for a ride… and then little Duncan had spotted her and she couldn't leave. Not that she didn't like the children – they were sweet, and amusing, and impossible not to like. She just avoided them because it hurt too much. Her son would have been Duncan's age if he had had a different father… or maybe if he had had a mother of a stronger constitution.

Jaehaerys had stopped playing with her bracelet but did not make any noise to get her notice. He was so serene that he amazed his attendants who claimed they had never cared for a less troublesome child. Daella reached for him and helped him rise and lean against her shoulder. Then, she kissed his hair. "You are such a dear one, Jaehaerys," she whispered and quickly pushed him a little away. _I want to have a son like him_ , she thought. His face fell a little, as if he had felt her resentment.

The echo of footsteps made her look up. To her utter astonishment and hidden displeasure, it was not Rhae or Aegon who entered the small hall. She immediately tensed. For all her simmering resentment toward her youngest siblings, she had never felt the dislike and fear that Aerion evoked in her with his very presence.

He gave her a mock bow that made her frown. What was he doing here? Haughty, ill-tempered and frankly, quite the monster, he was never on good terms with any of his siblings. He wouldn't be found here too often even if Egg and Rhae were home but the fact that he had come when they were absent defied any belief.

Alarm shot through her like an arrow. "They are not here," she blurted out. It was the first thing that came to her mind.

Aerion smiled. "I know."

He made a step forward. Daella jumped to her feet and stepped in front of Jaehaerys, as if she could shield him. "Then what are you doing here?" she demanded.

He smiled again. "Why, I wanted to see you, of course. I saw you coming in and thought I might visit you. I don't recall the last time the two of us were alone."

Daella's heart was racing wildly. The implication in his words was unmistakable. He knew as well as she did that they had never been alone – not in years, not after they had grown up. She had always done anything she could to avoid him.

"I was just leaving," she said. "Her Grace expects me any minute now."

He laughed. "Aunt Aelinor? She's so off, she wouldn't know what time it us unless her ladies come to dress her for meals…"

He wouldn't dare be so insolent if their father were here. And it was not true. At King's Landing, the Queen was subdued and miserable all over but she was not off. In fact, it was quite arrogant of Aerion to call anyone else off. He was as mad as… Baelor the Blessed. Or their uncle Rhaegel. At least, Rhaegel had been a good man. Mad, yes, but gentle and kind.

"The Queen is not off," Daella said as coldly as she knew how. Maybe if she showed him that she did not fear him…

Aerion grinned. Of course, he could see right through her. The truth was that Daella was scared, desperately scared and he could smell that. It only steeled his resolve to take what he had been deprived of. Only the Seven knew why his father had deemed appropriate to deny him a sister to wed. Besides being the only ones worthy of him, both of his sisters were quite stunning. He wouldn't touch Rhae with a stick, not after Aegon had had her, but Daella was another matter. And both Maekar and the King seemed ready to do anything for her, to make up with all they had for selling her to a husband who had mistreated her so. Aerion himself was not in their good graces but she might just change that. Besides, right now she looked quite lovely with the horror that made her indigo eyes black.

"Come here," he said and made another step forward.

Daella made a step back so hastily that she almost stepped over Jaehaerys. "No," she said.

His eyes flashed. "I said, come here." His voice was low and dangerous and she started panicking. Suddenly, she was at Storm's End again, with that thrice damned husband again. She saw herself in his power again, helpless, shaking, frenzied with fear. Any moment, the strikes would start raining all over her and she could suffer and count them no longer. She opened her mouth to scream.

"Delle?"

Jaehaerys' voice ruined the spell. Aerion looked at the boy with disdain. Daella shook her head to clear it and bit her lip. _No, I won't let it happen again_ , she thought. This was the Red Keep, not Storm's End. And Aerion was not Lord Baratheon whose loyalty the Targaryens needed. Aerion, she could fight. She had to fight him because she couldn't let him achieve what he wanted.

"Stay away from me," she spat. For a moment, he really stopped, looking at her, stunned by her defiance. In this brief moment, Daella grabbed Jaehaerys and shot past Aerion, through the door and down the hallway. He followed fast.

" _Don't you dare run away from me!"_ he bellowed.

She held the child closer and kept running, grateful that she wore only a loose robe and not a heavy gown.

Behind her, Aerion's footsteps echoed closer. Daella looked around desperately and glimpsed a servant. "Help me!" she screamed but the man only looked at her and then Aerion before scurrying away terrified.

'You can't escape. Stop right now!"

The few servants she encountered quickly dispersed, not daring to take side. Now, Daella had to fight off the fear mounting in her and blinding her with despair. She needed to escape. Somehow, she needed to get to safety. But where would she be safe? With the servants? By now, it was clear that they wouldn't take a side. Should she try to find a member of the Kingsguard? Surely, they could not fight against Aerion but they would not let him assault her either… maybe. She just didn't know. Her father or the King? They would never condone such a behavior and they would stop Aerion but right now, they were with the Small Council.

Without thinking, she threw open the first door she saw on her left, ran in, and slammed the bolt in place right in front of Aerion's furious face. Only when she looked around did she realize that she was now in Aegon and Rhae's bedchamber, the one that opened into a bathchamber and was located at the third floor of Maegor's Holdfast.

The door shook under Aerion's kicks.

Feeling suddenly weak, Daella placed Jaehaerys on the bed and collapsed next to him.

She had taken them into a trap.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

The oak door creaked and Daella almost shrieked but forbid herself any panic. Now, she needed a cool head. There was still a barrier between Aerion and her. She just needed to make it hold.

Jaehaerys was staring at her, wide-eyed. Thinking with the speed of despair, she decided that she couldn't leave him on the bed – he could easily fall down, so she grabbed him and placed him on the carpet before looking around for something to drag next to the door.

Rhae's dressing table! She ran to it and with a sweep of her hand knocked all bottles, vials and small boxes. Then, she circled it and bent down to push it. It was heavy. In mere moments, her hands started aching.

From the hallway, Aerion roared, "Daella, open the door!" and shook the door again, trying to break the bolt.

She cast a quick look at the door to make sure that it wouldn't break. The oak was solid but like most of the doors inside the Holdfast, it was not made for defense. Maegor the Cruel had fortified the gates of the Holdfast, assuming – wrongly – that in their private chambers, the Targaryens would be safe. And they were – except for other Targaryens.

Even Maegor the Cruel could not have predicted the existence of someone like Aerion.

She threw her entire weight against the dressing table, screamed when it moved forward so suddenly that she slipped and hit her face hard against its edge. Her cheek was thorn in two but fortunately, her eye was untouched. Jaehaerys gave a cry and started waddling toward her. "No, no!" Daella cried and held out a hand to stop him. Staggering, she rose and swept the blood with her sleeve before pushing the dressing table forward again. Her nails broke, her fingers bled when encountered with the many tiny uneven places that no one could see but she paid them no mind. Only one thing mattered: to keep Aerion at bay until help arrived. She would no longer be helpless. Never again. She'd fight for her life, as well as Jaehaerys'. Aerion was mad enough to kill them both after getting his way with her if he thought they might tell Maekar what happened.

Suddenly, she was aware of the strange silence at the other side of the door. Her skin crawled. She could not believe that Aerion had given up. He had a plan of some kind. Maybe he expected that she'd show up at the door to see what happened, so she didn't show up. Instead, she took up Jaehaerys and held him close. The child, it seemed, had felt that there was something going on because he was no longer smiling and babbling to himself but pressed close against Daella, seeking protection. _Can I really protect him_ , she thought, terrified. _Can I even protect myself?_

It was ridiculous. It passed belief. She was in King's Landing, in the middle of the Red Keep, in the centre of the Targaryen power, yet she was as helpless as she'd been at Storm's End, waiting for the brute who would force himself upon her… _No, I won't let it happen again!_ Her trembling hands fiddled with the handle of terrace door and threw it open. She stumbled out and screamed for help but there was only one figure in sight, too far away for her to make the face.

Behind her, the door of the bedchamber creaked again. Daella rushed in, terrified that Aerion might trap them on the terrace. In the bedchamber, at least, she could move around. On the terrace, she had no chance. She threw herself against the dressing table, trying to add her own weight against the door – and flew back when the door was thrown open. Daella barely managed to squirm, so she would not fall atop Jaehaerys. Now, they were both crying with fear; terrified, Daella realized that it would serve only to fuel Aerion's pleasure when he entered the chamber, throwing the lever aside.

"Oh Daella," he said. "You are really a fool."

She looked around wildly for something to drive him off. Her frantic eyes found Egg's dagger which had flown aside from its box when she had swept everything off the dressing table. She dove for it and yelped when Aerion carelessly stepped on her hand. A red curtain fell before her eyes, enveloping everything in a haze of pain. Jaehaerys wailed.

Just as carelessly as he had stepped on her palm, Aerion stepped off and bent down to haul her irresponsive body up. The pain stopped Daella from further fight but when she felt his lips on her neck, her cheek, her breast and mouth, she was suddenly shaken awake.

"In the Seven's names, you're still beautiful, Daella," Aerion breathed and with a casual sweep of his hand he tore her fine robe down the neckline. The red ruby on his finger almost cut Jaehaerys' cheek but Daella did not dare let go off the child, lest Aerion decide to kick him aside. She felt sick at feeling her brother's wet lips on her breasts. "I can only imagine what you must have looked like when you were sixteen, when you were going to wed Aegon. Did he have a chance to see you like this, Daella?" he asked.

"Let me go!" she screamed. Of course, he didn't. His fingers dug painfully in her ribs. Led by her instincts, she clutched the child more tightly, grabbed the wall for support and lifted her knee, aiming for Aerion's chin. He screamed and let off her. Daella ran past him and since he was still between her and the door, she ran in the bathchamber and slammed the bolt in place, winning maybe a few more minutes.

"No, no, little one, it's all right," she soothed Jaenaerys and slid against the wall, leaning her head against the tub, desperately trying to hatch a plan and coming with nothing.

A blow against the door of the bathchamber made her jump.

"You cannot mock me!" Aerion yelled from the other side. Now, Daella really started trembling because there was no way she could delay much longer. The memories came back, vivid and hateful, memories of both her childhood and married life, with her husband's face taking over her brother's and the other way round.

Then, suddenly, a pause. A new voice, male and vaguely familiar. "What's going on here?"

"None of your business," Aerion growled. "Get off."

"No!" Daella screamed. "No, don't leave!"

A new pause. Then, the voice again, calm and controlled. "Your Grace? Princess Daella? Are you in there?"

Daella did not know who he was but she felt that he was a friend. "He assaulted me!" she cried out and Aerion snorted.

"It's none of your business," he said again. "Leave."

"I won't, Your Grace. At least, not unless you accompany me."

"How dare you!" Aerion exploded. "Get out! Now!"

"No!" Daella yelled. Help was so near, he shouldn't leave, he shouldn't let Aerion intimidate him…

"No!" Jaehaerys echoed.

"I won't let the Princess alone," the main said calmly. "Your father will never forgive me if I do."

Now, Daella suddenly recognized the voice: it was one of her father's companions, the new one that he had brought from Dorne. Ser Galend. She was about to call out again when she heard a clang. A pause. Then, Ser Galend's voice again. "Leave this lever, Your Grace." He didn't sound unfazed, in the least. Daella breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't like'im," Jaehaerys murmured against her shoulder and she was sure that he was not talking about Ser Galend.

"That's fine," she whispered back. "I don't like him either."

And then a sudden pandemonium broke out: a woman's exclamation, the echo of many footsteps, Aegon's voice breaking through the noise. "What are you doing in my bedchamber?" he asked angrily but before Aerion could answer, their father's voice cut the chaos short.

"Who were you planning to assault?" he asked sharply.

"Father?" Daella cried out but no one answered.

At the other side of the door, there was a short murmur, then Maekar's voice rose again, obviously on the verge of control. "What?!... He dared?!..."

A blow. The sound of something falling down. A new blow.

"Father? Father!" Daella called out again and again, no one answered. For a while, relief and fear fought for dominance within her. Now that her father was near, she knew that she had nothing to fear from Aerion. She was safe. Both she and Jaehaerys were. At the same time, she was terrified not to know what was going on at the other side of the door. By the sound of it, Maekar had cut any explanations short and she feared what she would see when she went out. "Egg?" she cried this time and smoothed Jaehaerys' hair.

No reply. It was as if she had stopped existing for those in the bedchamber.

"You scoundrel," Maekar spat. "I'll teach you how to treat your sister!"

Again, those sickening sounds, then Aegon's voice, loud and clear. "Father, stop! Stop, that's enough!"

"It's nowhere near," Maekar replied.

"What's going on?" Daella shrieked. "Why no one is replying to me?"

"Daella," Aegon said sharply. "Please stay where you are. Don't come out yet."

She didn't. She stayed in the bathchamber, clutching Jaehaerys to her and biting her lips at the sounds of breaking things in the bedchamber.

And then finally, mercifully, the King's voice. "What's going on here? Maekar, let him go!"

"Aerys, don't meddle in my affairs!"

"I will meddle… Let him go, I said. Mother have mercy, you've beaten him black and blue…"

Daella could only guess what was going on in the silence that followed but finally, footsteps came close. "Daella, you can get out now," Aegon said.

It took a while for her trembling hands to unlatch the bolt but she finally did it. Aegon took a look at her disheveled appearance and took a deep breath. "Are you well?" he asked, taking his son from her and holding him close, as if he wanted to make sure that the boy was intact.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I think I am…"

Aerion was nowhere to be seen. Maekar's eyes widened at the sight of Daella. Aerys shook his head, sadly and resignedly. Maekar held her tight and looked over her shoulder at Aegon who nodded that Jaehaerys was fine. "Are you both fine?" Maekar asked. "What did he do?"

Daella clung to him, lightheaded with relief. "Don't worry, we're fine," she said. "We're fine. But I was so scared! He came all of a sudden and started talking these things… He tried to… no, I can't say that in front of Jaehaerys… He drooled all over me! Oh Father, I was so scared when he tried to force the door open, I was so scared…"

Maekar drew back and his eyes narrowed at the sight of the blood on her face. "He narrowly missed the eye," he said, his voice shaking with fury. "This time, he went too far."

Daella looked at him, utterly confused. In her frantic fear, she had stopped feeling the wound on her face. Now she went to the looking glass and gasped with horror, drawing a shaking hand over her ruined face. "Will there be a scar?" she asked.

"Probably not," Maekar said, although he didn't know. "Your brother would better pray that there isn't because if there is one…"

"That passes everything!" Aegon said, furious. "This blackguard was going to rape Daella in my home, in the middle of the fucking Red Keep… don't look at me like this, Daella, I'm using words that are known to Jaehaerys... and he's heard them from me before… What now, do the girls need guards to keep them safe from Aerion in Maegor's Holdfast? Father?"

"I have a better idea," Maekar spat. By the look of his face and the disorder in the bedchamber – the only thing that looked untouched was the bed – it was clear what this idea was.

"No," Aerys said flatly.

"Go to the seven hells, Aerys," Maekar snarled. "I've taken enough from you in a single day."

"What's going on here!" Rhae gasped from the threshold, staring at what was left of her bedchamber. Then, she looked at her sister and sucked her breath in.

Suddenly, Daella started trembling with the belated shock of all that had happened. Rhae went to her and hugged her. "Come here, Daella, come here," she murmured and turned back to glare at the men. "Off with you! I'll take care of her. Get out, get out."

Slowly, reluctantly, they obeyed. Daella looked at her sister. "I must bathe," she said.

"Very well." Rhae nodded. "I'll have a bath drawn for you."

"Now," Daella said and started tugging at her thorn robe, her broken nails catching at the fine fabric. Rhae hurried to help her. "Pour the water from this decanter over me," Daella said, noticing the ewer that, miraculously, had survived the devastation.

Rhae gasped. "Daella, no. It's for drinking, it's too cold, you'll catch…"

" _Pour it!"_

Rhae bit her lip, grabbed the decanter and overturned it over her sister's head. Daella gave a short shrill cry, then fell silent and let Rhae wrap her in thick velvets, have a bath drawn for her, clean the cut on her face, comb her hair. When the bath was ready, she plunged deep into the tub, letting the water clean her, wash Aerion and her husband away. And a small feeling of contentment moved her. This time, she had stood her ground. She had slowed her tormentor down until help arrived.

Maybe there was still hope.


	3. Chapter 3

_A few minutes later…_

With each step, Maekar's fury grew. Ser Galend glanced at him and silently prayed that they reached the King's chambers before the outburst. Fortunately, Aerys also seemed to grasp what was going on and didn't lose time with stopping here and there when a thought of a new prophecy or whatever occurred to him. Far from being absent-minded, he realized that if the storm that was his brother started raging here, everyone would know the reason in no time at all. Oh, the truth would come out anyway – too many servants in Prince Aegon's household were aware of the assault – but there was no use for Maekar and Aerys to give cause for further talks, so they went past courtiers and servants who needed only one look at Maekar's face to dive for cover, their ears pricked up.

Finally, they reached the marble staircase leading up to the King's private chambers and went past the Gold Cloaks. Ser Galend was about to stay behind when the two Targaryens entered the King's solar but then Aerys suddenly turned back and said, "Come in, ser."

Had he read Ser Galend's thoughts? No, he had just probably reasoned that he might need an ally to defy Maekar's rash decisions.

When the three of them were there, with two Kingsguard at the door and relatively safely away from pricked up ears, Maekar exploded.

"This time, he went too far!" he roared. "You shouldn't have meddled into my affairs, Aerys. You should have left him to me."

The King gave him a steady look. "What, until there was nothing of him left? You'd already beaten him black and blue when I came. You might have killed him, Maekar."

"As he well deserved…"

The words came out before Maekar thought better, cut the air like the hiss of a dying flame, like the falling of a mace. His face went white, his anger suddenly overtaken by the belated realization of what could have happened, although Aerion would have deserved it. Anyone who tried to impose himself upon Daella would have met a gruesome death. Anyone else but Aerion. Yet if Galend hadn't sent for Aerys – the only one who could have stopped Maekar, - he would have added another kinslaying to his list. _Damn Aerion to the seven hells,_ Ser Galend thought. _Can he ever do something else than give Maekar pain?_

The King was silent, yet the sudden flash of sympathy on his face made Ser Galend wonder once again why everyone seemed to think Aerys devoid of normal human emotions. Even as a boy, he'd had difficulties relating to people. But he had feelings and Ser Galend couldn't help but feel it was extremely offensive that everyone considered him… well, the walking book his siblings had named him. _Lord Walking Book_ , Aerys had been even before Ser Galend came to Maekar's service. But it had been a joke. None of the four young Targaryens actually thought their brother lacking humanity. Now, too many people thought that he did, that he was just eyes to read and brain to think.

"The madness is strong within him," Maekar suddenly spoke and somehow, his steady voice scared both Aerys and Ser Galend more than the raging they had previously expected. Raging was something familiar. The raw pain, as much as Maekar tried to disguise it, was another matter altogether. Pain, anger, bitter disappointment, wounded pride – they were there for anyone who had known him as long as the two of them to see. "I tried all but it's there. It cannot be destroyed. And he's getting too dangerous. The events from today proved this. He would have raped Daella hadn't you been there, Galend."

 _Raped._ That was the first time the word was spoken aloud after Prince Aegon's outburst. It sounded as harsh and ugly as the deed itself would have been.

"This cannot be allowed to go on," Maekar said. "I cannot protect everyone from Aerion, yet I must still try. I'll send him away and this time, there will be no return. Ever. I'll banish him from Westeros till the end of his life."

"You don't say!" Aerys exclaimed and his short-sighted eyes widened at staring at his brother. "What now? That will never do."

He made a few steps around the room, then stopped. "That will never do, Maekar. This is ruled out. I mean, it isn't reasonable…" He sighed and let the cat out of the bag. "The truth is, we cannot afford to leave Aerion out of our sight. Except for being mad, he is also vain and worse, cruel."

The words were like arrows to Maekar's heart but they were also true and Aerys spoke matter-of-factly. He nodded. "All the more reason to get him away from the Seven Kingdoms. What is it that you're afraid of?"

"What he might do," the King said bluntly. "He might take a campaign against us and we can't afford to have another family war."

"Blackfyre was not family," Maekar spat. It wasn't true and he knew it but he couldn't help saying it. It was just his way: to be contrary to everything his brothers said, at least in the beginning.

Aerys rolled his eyes, exasperated, but he was secretly glad to see that Maekar was back from the place of stunned guilt that he had dwelled in only minutes ago.

"Whatever. Aerion is your trueborn son and he might find support beyond the Narrow Sea. I can't put anything past him. I won't take any chances. He must stay here where we can keep an eye on him."

"Where I can keep an eye on him, you mean," Maekar spat, looking at the fine dust on the shelf of books before him. Aerys' books were so many that even dusted twice a day, they always seemed to attract any speckle of dust there was.

Bookish and inept in dealing with people, Aerys was, however, never the one to be intimidated. "Pretty much. I am sorry, brother, but that's about the size of it. Aerion stays. I'll give Daella guards and…"

"Don't do anything," Maekar interrupted. "Not yet. Short of cutting off his allowance for the next year, I mean. I need to think."

Aerys nodded. "Of course. Do you want to stay here? I'll send you some food and wine…"

"Don't bother," Maekar said. "I'll be fine."

Aerys very much doubted it but left without a word. Ser Galend followed. Once they were in the hallway, they both sighed. Caring about Maekar was a nasty sentiment because he didn't make it easy, yet they could not help but care.

Alone in the solar, Maekar looked out of the window, trying to empty his mind of anything to no avail. Despite his best efforts, he still saw the broken door, the disorder in the room, Daella's thorn robes and the wound on her face. He could still feel the satisfactory connection of his fists with Aerion's flesh and he felt sick.

Someone softly touched his shoulder. He turned around and sighed. "I take it you've heard?"

"Aerys told me," Aelinor replied.

"Aerys will do better if he stops poking his nose into my affairs, I say," Maekar snapped. "If you insist on making yourself useful, go to Daella. She might use some care."

"Daella is with Rhae and Aegon. They'll take care of her." _And no one will ever dare to take care of you,_ the Queen added silently. _No one but I._ Even Aerys who did recognize that Maekar needed some care was at a loss of how to provide it. The best idea he could come with had been to summon her. Not that it was a bad idea. Since they were all very young, Aelinor had been the only one Maekar had ever let take care of him, the only one he hadn't needed to catch up with. _It wasn't easy, being the fourth son after three so gifted brothers_ , she thought, not for a first time.

"Does it hurt?" she asked softly, her eyes going down to his bruised hands.

He didn't answer. It hurt. Just not the body. He suspected that she knew that. She always knew. He had missed her sorely all those years they had spent apart.

She silently took his right hand in hers and wiped Aerion's blood off with a damp cloth before doing the same with the left hand. For all his proclaimed reluctance to be in her company, Maekar did not try to stop her. She dabbed a salve into the bruises, avoiding the places where the skin had been split by Maekar's own heavy blows. He kissed her hands meekly, gratefully. She leaned her head against his shoulder and the two of them looked out of the window silently, the situation too terrible for words. They stood and stared until the sun headed for the west, until beneath them the Red Keep started preparing for its evening activities.

* * *

_In the evening…_

"I still can't believe it," Rhae said, once again, and pushed her plate aside. "I just can't believe it. Are we ever going to be safe?"

Unlike her sister, Daella was eating with the gusto of a ravenous woman. "You'd better believe it," she said. "We both know Aerion is mad enough to try a lot worse."

Aegon and Rhae shared a stunned look. Was it normal to be so calm after the shock of the assault? What had happened to their sweet sister?

Daella took an elegant bit of her mallard in honey and barely contained her grin. Not that she was merry. She was just both stunned from the fear from the assault and elated that she had finally dared to do something to stop a violence against her. And anxiety always made her grin like a fool, even as she wanted to weep with relief for actually having escaped the fate Aerion had prepared for her.

"Is Jaehaerys well?" she asked.

Rhae shrugged. "He was a little scared but thankfully, he didn't realize what was happening. Thank you for keeping him safe."

This was about the tenth time she said it. Daella rolled her eyes. "I'll go outside for a while," she said.

Rhae was about to rise but Daella stopped her. "No, no," she said. "Please, I'd rather go alone."

She wanted to put her thoughts together, to come to terms with what had happened. She wanted a little respite but…

"Daella, in your state…" Aegon started. She was being very strange and he feared that she might come to some harm if they left her alone.

"My state?" Daella repeated. "What's wrong with my state?"

She said it so forcefully that all three of them startled. Daella suddenly realized that she had never shouted this loudly, to anyone. "Stop it, Aegon," she said, softly this time. "I am sick of all of this. I am tired of being treated as if something terrible had befallen me. The point is exactly that it _didn't_ befall me."

"I know." Aegon was patient and sympathetic, as if she was Rhaelle in a tantrum. "But it was still a shock. I think you need some rest and…"

That was finally too much.

"I don't need rest and I don't want to be treated like a capricious child. Besides, I think I am the one that is least shocked of all of us! By the look of you, one might say that Aerion raped both of _you_ in turns!"

They gaped at her. She rose to leave – too abruptly. Her movement was so forceful that she hit the table and it shook so hard that a few plates fell down. Honey started immediately soaking in the carpet.

"What in the Seven…" Their father stood at the door, looking at them dumbfounded. "Daella, aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"No, I am not." Daella skirted around the table and tried to squeeze past her father who didn't move. That only made her anger grow. "Are you coming in?" she asked. "You can take my seat because, honestly, I've had enough company for today."

"Where are you going?" Maekar asked, having almost gathered his thoughts. Almost.

"I don't know," his daughter snapped. "Somewhere where I won't have to look at your concerned faces. And if someone tries to follow, I'll make them sorry. I need a breath!"

"All right, all right," Rhae conceded. "I suppose we might have been too overbearing…"

"You do? How very kind of you!" Daella mocked.

Maekar turned to his son. "For how long has she been like this?"

Aegon gave him a helpless look while he was rising from his chair. "She just snapped…"

"Oh shut up!" Daella exploded. "All of you, that is! I want you to stop treating me like a fool, an ill person, or a child – or all of them together. I won't let you navigate every detail of my life. I want all of you to stop looking at me as if I'll fall apart in tiny pieces any minute now. Because I won't fall apart. I won't!"

Rhae made a step toward her but Daella raised a hand to stop her from coming near.

"Daella," Maekar said. "No one wants to upset you." He had no idea how to deal with her, so he decided to follow her cue and not go near. He hoped his steady voice would appease her. "If you need some time alone…"

"Oh don't start again!" Shaking with anger, she strode to the other wall of the room and kicked it hard. "That's what I mean. No one should upset Daella. No one should treat her as a normal woman. Poor Daella, poor soul. No one should upset her!"

She spun around. Her indigo eyes were thunderous. "Don't you feel that you're a bit _late_ , all of you? Don't you have any idea how ridiculous you look? You two wed behind my back and didn't muster enough courage to tell me. Instead, you let me know about this in front of the entire court. Do you have any idea how small and humiliated I felt? No, I suppose that right then, it was all about how to deal with your own situation."

Aegon looked down. Rhae bit her lip, trying to stop the tears from falling.

Now, Daella rounded on her father. "And you! You handed me back to the lout who killed my babe and beat me black and blue for no better reason than a wounded pride and because he couldn't reconcile with the fact that I didn't love him _. It's for the realm, Daella,_ you told me. _We need Storm's End. I am so sorry that you have to be the one who'll pay the price but we need him._ You know what _I_ didn't need? The things he did to me in bed. That's what I didn't need. I'm glad you gave Aerion what he deserved. But I would have felt a great deal happier if you had given my husband a small part of it. You never did. And now you are all _so_ caring. You know what? I survived. When I most needed help, none of you was there for me, it was all _You can do it. Daella. We can't help you._ But I still survived. So save your caring for someone who can use it. Because I can't."

She headed back for the table and grabbed Aegon's goblet of Dornish red before turning back to face them. "You know what? Today, I defended myself and that feels great. And I won't let you rob me of that by insisting that I am so weak that I cannot deal with the fact that this time, I didn't get raped, for a change."

She drank to her own health and glared at the three of them. "Well? Will you move from the door, or will I have to use the window?"

Maekar silently removed himself. He looked too stunned and tormented to speak, Daella noticed with grim satisfaction as she was going past him. No one followed.

In the garden, the night breeze stroked her face and cooled the last remnants of her anger. For a while, she breathed the night air, thinking of nothing at all. Then, she sighed _. I suppose I'll have to apologize,_ she thought. _I know they are concerned about me._ But she didn't feel apologetic.

She felt… she felt released.


	4. Chapter 4

_A few days later…_

Daella was quite stunned when neither her father nor her siblings made any attempts to see her. She must have really made an impression. _That's a first,_ she thought, not too kindly. Now they were waiting for her to give them a clue as to what they should do next but she didn't want to. For first time in her life, she was doing what she liked instead of trying to keep everyone happy. She needed a rest from all of them and it felt very good to have it.

She supposed word must have spread because she was no longer summoned to attend the Queen – Aelinor was only too aware of her own part in the whole humiliation that Aegon and Rhae had inflicted upon Daella. Even the King had kept a careful distance this one time when they had come across each other in the hallways of the Red Keep. Daella almost laughed. Had she known that this was the way to get a little respect instead of loving smothering, she would have yelled a good few years ago.

She cursed under her breath and started choosing a cloak. As satisfying as this new development was, she didn't want to stay away from her family forever. She wouldn't really apologize but she would made the first step to repair the relationship. And she would start with the Queen – she would just sit down in Aelinor's solar and the two of them would talk about silly things, like they often did. They both disliked King's Landing and escaped in talking about Essos and all the distant lands they'd like to visit.

This time, though, there was no such thing. Someone had gotten there first.

Daella's father.

This was not the first time she saw the two of them alone, of course. It happened at Summerhall most often than King's Landing but Maekar and Aelinor often sought each other's company. They couldn't be more different – he sad and angry by turns, short-tempered and brooding, at odds with the world and she always kind and encouraging, level-headed and focused on the good side of anything. She only failed to be polite sometimes when people – Maekar, usually, since Aerys was far removed from those things and no one else would dare cross her – were way too obstinate. She had never done as much as raised her voice at Daella and right now, it seemed that she had no desire to raise her voice at Maekar, either. She was seated in front of the small fireplace in a side alcove, looking sickly and exhausted. Her hair tumbled to her waist and she was dressed in a simple robe and not a gown. Her eyes were puffy, with shadows beneath them, her face drawn. Daella had never seen her like this and startled, stunned, still near the door.

Standing in front of the window, Maekar looked at his sister, agitated. "What's wrong, Aelinor?" he asked. "Don't tell me again that it's nothing because I can see you are distressed. You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

"Brynden gave me a pain-numbing potion," she said. "Pain-numbing and sleep-inducing. I'll try it out tonight."

He looked surprised. Daella expected that her father would say she shouldn't take anything from the King's Hand and drink it but Maekar surprised her by only shaking his head. "You know you should give your leg more rest," he said. "Otherwise, you'll have to take potions every day, Aelinor. Do you realize it?"

"As if it matters," she spat. Daella had never heard her speak with such bitterness.

Maekar, though, was less surprised. "Aren't you going to tell me what really bothers you?"

Aelinor shrugged and looked aside, right at her niece without even noticing her. Then, she looked at Maekar again. Her voice was so soft that Daella did not hear the words and neither did Maekar who asked her to repeat.

"My leg has started twisting!" Aelinor burst out. Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "I am getting deformed, Maekar. At the end, I'll be forever disfigured."

Daella gasped. She had never given much thought to Aelinor's hobble. She had never known her aunt without the limp and while she knew that over time, the Queen's state was growing worse, she had never thought it included such sharp pains as to prevent her from sleeping or such great bodily changes as twisting. Aelinor's refusal to admit to any pain and maintain a serene façade probably hadn't helped either but Daella was ashamed nonetheless for never noticing, never paying close enough attention.

Maekar, however, did not look surprised. Merely sad. "I thought you were a smart woman," he said. His voice was very rude and Daella winced. Really, what was he thinking! Men did not feel these things like women did but surely he could see that Aelinor was upset? He wasn't blind or something.

"So stop talking nonsense," Maekar went on. "Deformed, disfigured, what am I to hear next? Even if your leg twists all around and your heel moves in front of your toes, you'll still be the most beautiful woman in Westeros and that's a fact, so stop whimpering over nothing. Do something about the pain instead. Do you want me to bring you the potion?"

His tone was still harsh but the last rays of the dying sun cast him in sharp relief, bathing his face in light, and Daella saw that his expression bespoke something entirely different altogether. Aelinor must have seen it, too, because she gripped his hand and didn't let go.

The sun gave a last soft sheen of light and went down. Neither Maekar nor Aelinor noticed Daella who was in plain sight – they were too wrapped in each other.

A sudden memory came back to her, one of the oldest ones she had. She was very young and confused. Her mother had died not long ago and Daella couldn't imagine that she wouldn't be coming back. One night, Aelinor found her crying and suggested that they go to see Maekar. Daella immediately agreed and they went to look for him, finding him at the roof of one of the four great towers at Summerhall. He beckoned them close and Aelinor went to him with Daella in her arms. Maekar opened his cloak and drew them under it, so they would not be cold in the cool night. Daella remembered how soothing his heartbeat had been to her… as well as Aelinor's. How safe she had felt. When she had been a child, when she had been with them, she had always felt that she belonged with them without giving it much thought. Could it be that they had felt that they belonged with each other, too, and that they were powerless to do something about it? Was it the reason that Aelinor had aided Aegon and Rhae in their forbidden union? When she thought about it now, Daella remembered that her aunt had asked her many questions about her feelings for Aegon right before his elopement with Rhae. Daella vaguely remembered that she replied that, of course, she has always been fond of him.

" _Fondness is just something filling the void where love should have been,"_ a woman spoke abruptly in Daella's mind, softly and bitterly. Was it her mother? Daella did not remember almost anything specific about Naeryn Velaryon, so she couldn't really tell.

The thought came to her unbidden, the realization that maybe the void between Baratheon and herself had felt bigger to him than her. He had started beating her only after she had started becoming fond of him, she realized and she felt even more bewildered.

"I'll go now," Maekar finally said and looked away from Aelinor. "If you are feeling fine?"

She smiled faintly. "I'll be all right," she said. "Go on."

 _Don't go!_ Daella almost cried. Couldn't he see that Aelinor was still deeply upset? It seemed that he could but he was determined to go anyway. He stroked Aelinor's cheek gently and left through a side door without looking back.

Unsure of what to do, Daella made a hesitant step forward. Aelinor looked at her and seemed to decide that the young woman had just entered. She smiled brightly. "So, am I forgiven?" she asked lightly. "Come here, my dear. Let's have a cup of tea. Would you pour?"

Daella did and sat opposite her aunt. "How are you feeling?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be even before Aelinor said, "Never been better."

* * *

_An hour later…_

Aelinor had opted out of dinner – despite her brave façade, she was obviously in too much pain to navigate the steps of the dais in the great hall or even eat. She retired early, no doubt eager to try out the new pain-numbing potion, so Daella was left with two options – dine in the great hall or go back to her chambers. She opted for a third one – going to Aegon and Rhae's apartments. Sooner or later, she would have to meet them and in truth, this evening she didn't want to be alone.

"Your Grace?" someone spoke right next to her. In the torchlight of the courtyard, she saw dark hair, dark eyes, a face of a young man looking at her in delighted wonder. He bowed to her.

He looked vaguely familiar. "Do we know each other?" Daella asked. "You look… familiar."

His smile was such that all of a sudden, she felt a rush of warmth. "I am Alor Gargalen, my lady," he said. "We've met once… watch out!"

She heard him but she was already climbing up the outer stairs to the building her sister and brother were occupying. She barely had time to look down when she slipped on the damp stairs and was about to fall down when he reached out to steady her. "Thank you, my lord," she murmured automatically and was stunned to find out that his sudden grip of her did not cause her to panic. In fact, it felt rather… nice. The rush of warmth became even hotter but next to it there was a slight undertone of feeling safe and protected. Without thinking, she inclined her head to one side, so the curtain of her hair fell over her cheek, hiding the ugly cut.

"How are you feeling, my Princess?" Alor Gargalen asked, concerned.

"I am fine," Daella said but when he let go of her, her foot bent under her and he steadied her once again. "I think I hurt my leg." She looked at the staircase and tried to count how many steps there were. Too many, even with his help.

From the top of the staircase, Rhae watched their slow ascending. "What's going on?" she asked as soon as they came near.

"I fell down," Daella said. Rhae opened her mouth to ask how she was, then remembered Daella's outburst and closed it again. Daella laughed a little… and then realized that Alor Gargalen still hadn't released her hand.

Obviously, Rhae had noticed the same thing because she asked, "Aren't you going to let go of her?"

The Dornishman shrugged, completely unapologetical. "I quite like holding her. She smells nice."

Rhae laughed and shook her head. "Stop making moon eyes at her, Alor. Gossip runs like lifeblood here."

"Can't I keep her, my lady?" he asked plaintively. "I don't know any ladies here save for you and I quite miss female company. I am getting so lonely."

"Stop playing the fools, both of you." Daella glared but made sure that her hair covered the wound all the same. "You can let go of me now, my lord."

"If I must," he said, pretended to be heartbroken. She shook her head and smiled a little.

"I am sorry I came uninvited," she said, looking at her sister. "It seems that you're hosting a dinner. I'll go now." She didn't want to. Not when the handsome Dornishman with the cheeky smile would stay.

"You are never uninvited and you are always welcome, sister," Rhae assured her. Contented, Daella took Alor Gargalen's hand again and let him accompany her inside, to the great disappointments of the gossipers who were no doubt watching them for every door and window there was. Had it been a day, the sudden flush of her cheeks would have given them even more food to gossip.


	5. Chapter 5

"I've heard much about you," Daella said over a course of venison with apples and rosemary. Her eyes were cast demurely, she feared that she might not be able to conceal her excitement if she actually met his eyes. Dornish eyes, they called them. Truly black, irises and pupils merging. She remembered looking closely at her grandmother's eyes and wondering aloud why the Queen didn't have irises. Myriah Martell had laughed and assured her that she most certainly had those but as much as Daella had stared, she hadn't found them . Rhae had those eyes, too, and sometimes Daella had wondered what lay hidden in those black depths. Now, she wondered the same about Alor Gargalen. Did he feel the same turmoil that she felt just by being near him? The touch of his hand still burned her with intensity that she had never known.

"Good things, I hope?"

"Entirely," she assured him. "I heard that you saved them from being handed over to rebellious lords."

Alor looked at Aegon and Rhae, amused. "Hardly, Princess," he said. "I just happened to be there when Lord Yronwood had exceeded his authority."

Rhae smiled at him over the edge of her goblet. "I still contend that it was very brave of you. There were only a few of you there and Lord Yronwood looked like a man who would happily do away with you before dealing with us."

He shrugged. "Bad blood. He still blames my father for his son's death some twenty years ago. But he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't have risked harming me in Dorne. Someone would have told. Someone always tells. I was safe."

 _Were you really_ , Daella wondered. Her limited experience with men told her that when their pride was concerned, they could be astoundingly unreasonable.

"So," he said. "What can you tell me about life in King's Landing, Princess?"

It was Daella's turn to shrug. "I suppose it's good. If you like the buzz, you'd love it."

He gave her a long, careful look that she more felt than saw because she was still not looking straight at him. "And don't _you_ like it?"

Daella shifted uncomfortably. She knew what the proper answer was, yet she couldn't give it because it would be a lie. She didn't want to lie to him, of all people. Besides, he was Egg and Rhae's friend, so he must have seen some part of what was going on behind the majestic façade of royalty. _You block of ice!_ a voice suddenly spoke into her head. _Ever the perfect lady. There isn't anything more to you._ Daella gritted her teeth. _Leave me alone,_ she screamed silently. _You are dead. Won't you ever leave me alone?_

"Not quite," she said, slowly, things suddenly resolving in her head as she was voicing them. "After the events in my life, it was good to be here with my family. I needed that to recover. But I am well now. I need to do something. To be useful. In Summerhall, I was always busy. We had a shelter for unwed mothers, you know. I was working there."

He nodded. "I know," he said.

Now, Daella looked at him, wanting to see whether he was disgusted that a lady of her standing worked alongside midwives and maesters, delivering babies of these lowly women with her very hands. But he looked fascinated. Now that she saw her face, she instinctively felt that he was as drawn to her as she was to him. _You can never love anyone, no man, ever,_ her lord husband roared again. _You don't have it in you. You are devoid of passion._ Daella had always dismissed his scorn as a result of her lack of feelings for him, yet in some part of her she had wondered… But now she knew that he was wrong. He was right about one thing, though. He had awoken as much passion in her as his thrice damned castle of Storm's End. Alor Gargalen, though…

"You must see the Water Gardens," he said. "I think you'll like them. This is a place of harmony, a refuge, and a fountain of joy.'

Maybe you'd like to show them to me? she thought but didn't say a thing. She just smiled.

"Ah the Water Gardens," Rhae sighed. "Duncan and Rhaelle still speak of them. They want to go back there… and take Father with us. And Aunt Aelinor. And the King. And you, Daella."

Daella looked at her lap, suddenly ashamed. It was nice to know that the children loved her so much, yet she didn't feel that she deserved it. Not when she still harboured so much resentment towards them.

Alor was about to say something but Rhae caught his eye and shook her head firmly. A few minutes later, Daella came to herself in the middle of a conversation between the three of them about people in Dorne she didn't know. But she didn't mind being isolated. Looking at them, listening to them talking… she felt something that she hadn't really felt in a very long time.

Happiness.

* * *

_A few hours later…_

The night was lovely and sprinkled with stars. The pale roses in the flower beds gave a strong aroma that made one's head turn. But Daella's head was in too much turmoil already and she only paced up and down, right and left, until she suddenly felt so tired that her legs gave up and she lowered herself on the nearest bench. The beauty of the night suddenly overwhelmed her senses that had been asleep for so long, and it was too much, far too much. She buried her face in her hands and wept. She wept for the child she had lost, for the innocence she had lost, for the belief that the world was a good place, a kind place for those who wished to make it so. She wept for her father and her aunt, for their loneliness and the fact that they had never had what their hearts desired. She wept for the resentment she felt towards Rhae and Aegon's children who had never done anything to wrong her. She wept for the joy her husband's demise had given her. She wept and wept until she could weep no more, until her entire strength had gone into the effort of keeping her heart from bursting.

When she stood up and wiped the tears off, it was almost dawn. Suddenly cold, she hurried for her chambers, grabbed a parchment and a quill and wrote a few words. Then, she collapsed in her bed without bothering to remove her clothing and immediately fell into deep, healing sleep.

* * *

_The next day…_

She was passing through the halls and hallways as if she were flying. Courtiers and knights, servants and guards alike looked at her, surprised by the spring in her step. Daella breezed past everyone and smiled broadly at the two Kingsguard in front of the King's study. To her delight, Ser Willem Wylde smiled back – something that he almost never did. He must have been born serious.

Since Daella was always welcome into her Uncle's presence, the two knights didn't hesitate to open the door. Daella stepped in and barely avoided a clash with her father who was going out.

"Ah you're here. That's good," she exclaimed. "May I talk to both you and Uncle?"

"Of course," Maekar agreed and stepped back in, letting her enter. Amused, Daella noticed that both he and Aerys gave her a wide respectful berth, obviously unsure of what to expect of her. From her seat near the window, Aelinor smiled at her.

Her heart swelling with love for all of them and the world as a whole, Daella tiptoed to give her father a kiss, then repeated the procedure with Aerys. They were clearly both surprised but glad to see that they were forgiven. Daella took a seat.

"So, my beloved family," she started. "How are you in this lovely day?"

Aerys chuckled. "It seems that today, someone woke up feeling elated," he said. "You look lovely, my dear. Will you share the reason with us?"

"Of course," Daella readily agreed. "I think it's time for me to wed again."

"Oh!" Aelinor exclaimed. Until now, Daella had rejected all the suitors and they hadn't wanted to press her, so it was great to hear that she was getting over the tragedy wit Baratheon. Aelinor hadn't seen her this vibrant in many years. "I am thrilled to hear it. May we know who the lucky man is?"

"His name is Alor Gargalen," Daella said. "He's Dornish."

Aerys choked on his water. Maekar's eyes went wide. Aelinor looked at Daella, wondering whether she had heard tight. Then, she looked at Maekar, expecting to hear that he wouldn't tolerate such nonsense.

He didn't say it.

"I know who Alor Gargalen is," he said instead. "I didn't know the two of you knew each other."

"We didn't," Daella explained. "We met last night."

Had Maekar had a goblet in his hand, he would have followed Aerys' lead. As it was, he only stared at his daughter. "This is a joke, right?" he asked. "Tell me that it's another retaliation for the things you blame me for."

Daella shook her head, her spirits still soaring skyward. "I cannot say such a thing."

"Of course you can," he said, almost desperately. "Try."

She laughed. "I am going to wed Alor Gargalen. I'm going to wed him in the Great Sept of Baelor. I am serious. Princess Daella will marry Maron Martell's bastard. And this goodson, you'll have to accept him and treat him with all respect. Because I love him."

She smiled at him sweetly, pecked him on the cheek and left, the spring in her step still there.

Maekar looked at his brother and sister. "Was she… serious?"

"I think so," Aelinor said, bemused. She was happy for Daella who had finally fallen in love but she couldn't fathom Maekar's behavior. The truth was, Alor Gargalen who was born Alor Sand was hardly a match for blood of the dragon. Maekar knew it better than anyone, yet he hadn't cut off Daella's illusions from the start. Why hadn't he?

"Do you think we can disabuse her of this notion?" Maekar asked hopefully.

Aerys frowned. "It would be better if you simply state that this match isn't acceptable. Surely she can't be thinking…"

Maekar went to the nearest shelf and started examining the books there. It gave him something to do until he gathered his thoughts.

Finally, he turned back at the King and Queen. "I promised her," he said. "I gave her my word. When… when her baby was born dead, when I had to hand her back to her husband, may he rot in the seven hells, I promised her that should she become a widow, her next match would be one of her choosing. I promised that I wouldn't force her into a union that she doesn't desire."

Aerys considered this, rubbing his chin and looking from Maekar to Aelinor and back. "That was quite rash of you," he said. "Daella's obligations…"

"She fulfilled them and exceeded them, even," Maekar cut off. "I couldn't do anything different. Not then. She was so terrified. I had to give her some reassurance. Maybe it was hasty of me but then I really felt I had no choice."

They fell silent. Aerys was a just man and he loved his kind-hearted niece. He had resented giving her back to Baratheon almost as much as Maekar had. And the Seven knew the girl deserved a little happiness. Which didn't mean that their current problem was a minor one. Daella should have chosen more wisely.

"He is hardly the best choice out of all available," he said.

"I know, I know, but I promised," Maekar reminded him.

And he kept his promises. Aerys could already envision the procession of disappointed great and not so great Houses, the resentment of the lords being forsaken for a Dornishman, and a bastard one, at that. Daella's second marriage should have served to gain them more alliances, like the first one had done, yet he wouldn't force her into anything, not again, and with Maekar's promise, things looked quite clear.

"Ah well," Aelinor spoke. "Should I call for wine to celebrate the occasion?"

"No!" both men said at the same time.

She didn't call. She just smiled and thought that this was the best day she had had in quite a while.


	6. Chapter 6

_At the same time…_

As always, the light rain paddling softly against the marble floor of the courtyard brought Alor Gargalen the sense of calm and wonder. It was rare enough at Sunspear where the rare rains blew the sand of the desert and were, in result, quite muddy. In his many years as a sea captain, he had anticipated rain with alertness and care, for it was easy for it to evolve into a full storm, a one that might send his ship wherever it decided to. He treasured the soft rain all the more when he was on dry land and could simply enjoy the freshness it brought.

In the garden of the chambers where the Dornish party was accommodated, nothing stirred save a few birds calling to each other from the opposite ends of the garden. Alor looked at a tall bush with flowers as bright as blood-oranges and thought it was a wonderful day for a new beginning. The beginning of the rest of his life.

He was absolutely sure what he was to do. What he did not know was how his actions would be perceived. He was about to shock all of Westeros but then, he had been a shock to everyone outside Dorne just by being treated as his father's son and not his shame.

He went to the bathchamber. It was quite tiny but it was adjacent to his bedchamber and suited him just fine. Of course, he shared it with Lord Uller who had the apartments opposite to his but then, he had expected no different. Had Mors accompanied them, he would have been given larger chambers. He was their father's heir. As it was, Maron and Daenerys were the only one so accommodated. It was nothing to be concerned about.

Some thoughtful servant had already had the tub filled with hot water. Alor took his nightclothes off and entered, his mind already turned to last night. Daella Targaryen was even more beautiful now than he remembered her from those days after they had relieved the siege of Storm's End, after her wretched husband had died. Even then, when she had been not much than a wraith scared of her own shadow – Alor had no doubts as to the reason and judging by the way Prince Maekar's face closed off, he was certainly only too aware of it – even then Alor had been attracted to her, since that first moment he saw her descending the great staircase at Storm's End. Now she had come into her own and his attraction to her had only grown. He knew, was fairly certain that he'd never be happy unless she became his companion – in and out of bed. When he had first looked at her, in the courtyard lit by torches, he had seen his future. She was the one he would find love with. He had never expected that. The fact that she reciprocated, that she wanted to be with him seemed impossible. Too good to be true. But then, why not? Hadn't his father found happiness not once but twice, the second time around with the woman who had loved none other than the acclaimed Daemon Blackfyre? No one could escape their fate.

He expected that he'd have to wait talking to his father since the journey from Dorne had been quite demanding and then Maron and Daenerys had spent the evening with _their_ friends. To his surprise, though, they were both awake and sitting in the dining-room when he entered.

"Good morning," Daenerys said. "How are our young friends?"

"Aegon and Rhae are all right," he answered and took a seat. "They asked about you. Said that they'd never forget the kindness you showed them."

"I'll visit them soon," she said. "I can't wait to see the children. They must be so big now." She laughed. "The Queen told me Duncan is still quite the chore. It must be his Dornish blood."

The two men prudently gave no response, although the little Prince's stubbornness could very well be attributed to his Targaryen willfulness. Daenerys took a scone and started spreading butter over it. Maron took a prune out of the silver bowl.

"I think it's time for me to wed," Alor said.

Daenerys left the scone and smiled. "It was about time," she said. "You do need an heir now. I think we can find a fine match…"

"Or maybe not," Prince Maron said softly, his eyes never leaving his son's face. Daenerys turned to him, surprised, but he was still looking at Alor. "As I understand it, you've made your choice?"

"That's right," Alor said and reached for an apple before deciding that he wasn't hungry, after all.

Daenerys shook her head, confused, and waved away a handmaiden who was about to come to them and ask whether they needed something.

"You never said a thing," Maron pointed out. Age had flecked his dark hair with grey but his piercing eyes had lost nothing of their keen intelligence.

Alor smiled. "It happened kind of quickly," he said. "I met her last night."

Daenerys made a small sound. Maron sighed. "Are you serious?" he asked.

Alor took a sip of his goblet – some cool refreshing drink that tasted very good. "I am not jesting," he said. "I met her. I'll wed her. And I'll tell you who your future gooddaughter is," he added and paused. "It's Princess Daella."

Daenerys was as stunned as to lose her voice. Maron only sighed. "You are aware that all men in the kingdom want to wed her, yes? That many of them are ready to send their wives away and disinherit their sons for the chance to take her to wife?"

"I am fully aware," Alor said. "But _I_ 'll be the bridegroom, rest assured."

And his hand went to the pocket of his doublet where the brief notice was. _Ask for my hand in marriage,_ it said. Nothing more. He had no idea how the marriage would take place. He only knew that it would.

His fathet's wife was looking at him, aghast. Given her family's history, Alor could reasonably suppose that she was wondering whether he had gone mad all of a sudden. He might have.

For a while, Maron fell silent. His brows were knitted, his eyes thoughtful. Neither Alor nor Daenerys said anything to interrupt him.

Finally, he looked up. "Alor, the girl was already wed once," he said. "Her babe was born dead. Are you sure she'll be able to give you children?"

Alor tried to sniff out the rising anger. "Her babe was born dead because her oaf of a husband gave her beatings that were too harsh for her and the babe to bear," he said. "And you know it. The entire realm does. It doesn't mean that another child of hers would…"

"No," Maron agreed. "It doesn't. Howeverm it doesn't mean that she'll be able to bear a living, healthy child, either. You saw what happened to her sister, and Rhae's first children were perfect. Are you sure that it'll be different with Daella?"

"Their mother was a good breeder," Alor said and then remembered what had happened to their mother at the end. Naeryn Targaryen had died along with her last babe. Hardly an encouraging thought.

Still speechless, Daenerys only moved her eyes from father to son, as if she was following a joust in a tournament. It was hard to say who had the upper hand.

For a moment, Maron closed his eyes. "Very well," he said. "I see that I can say nothing to change your intent. Still, I'd like you to know: peace or not, Maekar won't let his daughter be maltreated in any way and he isn't someone to be dismissed. Baratheon was a harsh test for his patience and I don't think he'll be able to get a grip of himself if…"

Daenerys gaped at her husband, unable to believe what she was hearing. Alor, on the other side, got really angry. His eyes, dark and Dornish, flashed just like his father's. He leaned over the table. "What kind of man do you think I am, my lord?" he demanded. "Seven help me, do you take me for someone who can misuse a woman so? Who am I, Baratheon?"

The concern in his father's eyes made him cool down, though. Maron wasn't malicious or really doubting his character. He was simply trying to come to terms with a situation that had rapidly spun out of his control. "I'll talk to her father today," the young man said, more softly.

Maron raised a hand to his face, put it down, looked at him and sipped his goblet of juice, wishing that he had something stronger handy. "You have an… understanding with the girl?" he finally asked.

Had this come from someone else, Alor would have been forced to kill them. Anyway, for a Dornishman things were quite different. Maron wasn't douting Daella's morals, he was just trying to clarify the situation for himself. "No," Alor said. "Yes. It isn't what you think. But yes, we have an understanding."

Maron snorted. "That makes it all clear," he said dryly. "So, you are determined?"

His son nodded. "She accepts me, so there's nothing that can stop me."

"Except for her father," Maron reminded him. "And the King. And politics. Did you really think it might come to pass?"

* * *

_Two hours later…_

"It was about time," Maekar said, looking especially morose. No more so than Maron, though, and by the very same reason. After the initial shock, Daenerys had found out that she was quite besotted with the idea. Daella was gentle and kind, Alor was clearly smitten with her, and it would be good for Daenerys to have another Targaryen lady near, after Rhae had left. Another union between King's Landing and Dorne would be all too welcome.

Unfortunately, the two men were not as enthused as her.

"I take it you've been informed?" Maekar asked.

"I had the same conversation with my son that I suppose you had with your daughter," Maron replied. "Do you dislike the idea as much as I do?"

"Gods, yes!"

Maron heaved a sigh of relief. He had plans for Alor, plans that did not include Daella Targaryen, as beautiful as she was. He wanted to forge ties with the Free Cities or maybe even finally bury the amnity with House Yronwood. The way things were, Dorne was integrated into Westeros to her Prince's satisfaction without losing her customs and internal system. They did not need another marriage to strengthen the ties – that had been done many years ago with Maron's own union with Daenerys Targaryen.

"Then it's decided," he said. "Alor will come to talk to you and you'll refuse him her hand, right?"

Maekar's lips disappeared into a thin line. "It isn't so easy," he said. "In fact, I hoped you'd be able to put your foot down."

Now totally bemused, Daenerys stared at Maekar. It had been hard enough to believe that Maron was so resigned but she had expected that at least Maekar would see things in perspective, to her dismay. He obviously didn't.

"I can't," Maron said.

Maekar narrowed his eyes but not enough to conceal the harsh burst of violet anger. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I mean that I can't," Maron said again. "I promised his mother. Before she died, I promised her that he'd be able to take to wife a woman of his choosing."

Maekar hissed a breath out. "How very touching," he spat. "And where does that leave us?"

"To you," Maron said. "You can still refuse," he added hopefully.

"I can't. I made the same promise to my daughter that you made to Lady Alynna… why did she ask such a thing at all?"

Maron shrugged and leaned back in his chair. The velvet of the upholstery rustled. "She wanted him to be happy. She didn't think he was important enough to merit being saddled with a wife he didn't want…"

 _Why, thank you, my lord husband._ Still, Daenerys didn't say it because it really wasn't the time for witty remarks.

There was a long silence, full of regrets, anger and opportunities that would be made no use of. Finally, Maron spoke, "We don't really have a choice, do we?"

* * *

_At the same time…_

Today was not so different from yesterday. Her handmaidens still drew her bath and brought her milk and fruit for breakfast, the gossipers in the palace still speculated whether the wound on her face would scar and whether Prince Aerion had gotten his way with her, the flowers were still as lovely and sweet-smelling as before, yet Daella took everything in with a sharpness of the senses she hadn't known that she possessed. The world was suddenly revealing itself to her, as if a transparent veil had been lifted, a veil that had let her see anyting but still hazed it out, wrapped it in mist so fine that she had not realized the mist existed. Now, everything was close and everything was hers. Now, her life could truly begin – a life of her choice.

Rhae smiled at her, still sleepy and tired for staying up with Jaehaerys who was clearly weary but excited, prattling something about horses and toads. Daella smiled back, then turned her back to her sister and leaned to lift Jaehaerys up, bury her nose in his hair and breathe him in.


	7. Chapter 7

_A few hours later…_

"Don't you think it's time to return the hostages to their families?" Aegon asked from where he was rummaging through the King's correspondence – a duty Aerys was only too pleased to be relieved of. "I see a new petition from a Ser Wulfrem Beecham here, begging for his son…"

"Maybe," his uncle said, thoughtfully. "It's been a long time."

"No longer than the period between Redgrass Field and those curs' second uprising," Maekar spat. "If you really think it's safe, then you're more disconnected to reality than I thought."

As rude and impatient as he was, it was not typical for him to use such language. His son looked at him, surprised. His brother just sighed. "You know what? Brynden also thinks so."

Maekar, however, was not ready to take it all easily. "I never said he wasn't smart," he snapped. "You simply can't afford to lose the hostages – at least the kin of those who rebelled a second time."

Aegon started arranging the parchments, wondering what his father's problem was. Maekar did not keep him guessing for too long. "What do you think of Alor Sand?" he asked.

Taken aback, the young prince only blinked. "What?"

"Alor Sand," Maekar said again, impatiently. "It's Alor Gargalen now, I guess. Maron's bastard."

Aegon didn't answer immediately. When he did, it was with great caution. "He's my friend but you already know that. Why are you asking?"

Maekar's lips compressed into a thin line. "Because he'll be your sister's husband," he said. "And soon."

Aegon stared at him. "What?" he finally managed.

"You heard me. Daella intends to wed him as soon as possible. And since I made the mistake of promising her that this time around, she'd have a choice…" Maekar didn't bother to finish.

Aegon was still trying to process this. "Daella and Alor?" he repeated, stunned.

"You heard me correctly the first time around. And don't you try to pretend innocence because they met in your home – only yesterday!"

Aegon's hands started crumpling the parchments. "But, _Daella and Alor?_ "

"Am I not speaking in plain words? Do I need to draw a map for you?"

Aegon, however, was one of the few people who were fairly unimpressed by the perspective of an enraged Maekar coming down on them. "So, it's _she_ who wants _him_ – am I right in my understanding?"

"Unfortunately, and you can be assured that I am not in the least bit content."

 _I would have never guessed_ , Aegon thought, cynically, but any thoughts about his father's disgruntlement swiftly vanished, swept off by an overwhelming relief. All those years, he had felt guilty about the tragedy that had ruined Daella's life. Had he wed her, as he had been expected to, instead of following his heart, she would have never become a victim of cruelty that her sheltered life had not prepared her. She would have never come near Baratheon's rage. He was not sorry for wedding Rhae but he did feel responsible for the tragedy that had befallen Daella. Now, he was just so glad that she'd have another chance, another life. Maybe that would make the burden of regret easier for him to bear.

Unknown to him, his father had the same thoughts running through his mind. He had solid reasons to regret the way things had played out with the women who were most important in his life. Naeryn, he had not loved as she deserved, as she had loved him. Worse, he had let her know it. Aelinor whom he loved, he had condemned to a loveless life with a man who didn't care to be a husband. Rhae, he had turned into a homeless roamer, constantly threatened by their enemies. Daella, he had given to someone who had done her unimaginable harm and then had actually handed her back to him… The only woman he had not harmed was his mother – the only one who had not relied on him about anything.

Daella would have her Dornishman, her bastard. Of course she would. It just didn't mean that Maekar had to like it. He would accept Alor and treat him with respect, even if it made him gag.

He looked at the sun that was slowly rising; stunned, he realized that it was barely noon. So much had changed in only a few hours' time. A new thought came to him and he turned back to look at Aerys.

"Do you think the Grand Maester would have finished by now?"

Aerys frowned. "Finished? What with?"

 _He doesn't even know. He didn't care to remember._ Silently, Maekar whirled abount and strode out, before he said something he would truly regret. Behind him, he heard his son and brother wondering what had set him off again but he didn't care.

In his chambers, Ser Galend looked at him briefly from polishing his shield but there was no question in his eyes – he wouldn't press him. Of course, this was one of the reasons Maekar usually told him what the problem was – Ser Galend was a calming influence, yet somehow he was the voice of common sense. He did have a good head on his shoulders and he was not as tunnel-visioned as his lord was.

"What do you know about Alor Gargalen?" Maekar asked and went to open the windows. It was too hot.

Ser Galend looked slightly surprised. "Alor? I'd be hard pressed to point out any great fault of him. I've known him since he was a child."

"Is he going to treat my daughter well? Because he'll wed her soon," Maekar added and felt some grim satisfaction at rendering the other man speechless.

"Yes," Ser Galend said without hesitation and waited.

Maekar started pacing the spacious chamber. "The Grand Maester was to examine Aelinor this morning," he finally said. "She… she's been worse in the last few days."

The knight nodded. The Queen's health was a recent juicy piece of gossip talked about by basically everyone in the Red Keep. Just not in front of the Targaryens. "I know."

Maekar chuckled humourlessly. "You do? Well, Aerys doesn't. He had bloody forgotten that she was being examined today to try and see whether one day, she'd be able to walk _at all_." His face was livid.

 _It must have been the same when she almost froze to death_ , Ser Galend thought. By this time, he had been already living in Dorne but he could imagine the reactions of the royal family quite vividly. Oh Maekar really wanted Aelinor to be happy. Just not entirely happy. Not when he couldn't be the one to share it with her. _Had Aerys fallen in love with her, that would have triggered him worse than anything I've witnessed up to the moment._ Still, the fact that Aerys could be so disinterested in her, so deeply plunged into his world of books and prophecies was bad enough. Maekar sincerely couldn't understand how such disinterest was possible and that fueled his rage.

"Try to see it through his eyes, my lord," Ser Galend finally said. "He never wanted anything than a life of books, contemplation, and discussions with maesters, yet he got saddled with a wife he had never desired. Everyone expected of him to be smitten with her simply because she's so beautiful and worthy of love but… it doesn't work this way. And now, he's an object of all kind of speculations and expected to answer to demands that are simply not compatible with his way of living. He's blamed by everyone, including you. Frankly, he had just as little choice in all this as you did."

Maekar immediately realized what his friend was hinting, about him, his own life. But it was different. He might have ultimately failed but he had tried, at least. Aerys had never bothered. He stifled the tiny stir of sympathy he felt all of a sudden. "Well, I am not the one to blame for all that transpired as a result of his own decisions," he snapped.

"No," Ser Galend agreed. "But he isn't the one to blame, either."

When Maekar entered his sister's chambers, the look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She glanced at him for a moment and then buried her face back against the pillow that was already wet. Maekar sat next to her and held out a hand; without looking, she sought it blindly, gripped it and dug her fingers into it. Maekar felf blood seeping under her nails but he didn't stir.

She looked so much like his daughters. He hoped with all he had that Rhae and Daella would never look this crushed. If Alor Gargalen was the way to make it work for Daella, he would accept him, readily.

"Stay." Aelinor's voice was hoarse; he felt her fear, the heartbreaking recognition that she could trust no one with what the Grand Maester had told her. She wouldn't even tell him.

He touched her hand with his free one. "I'm here," he said. "For you, I'll always be here."

* * *

_A few hours later…_

"I'll call for his nursemaid to put him to sleep," Rhae said, and Daella rose immediately.

"No, I'll do it," she said and reached for Jaehaerys who was happily pushing some playthings all over the carpet.

Rhae looked surprised, then smiled. "Do you want to?" she asked.

"Very much," Daella assured her and left the room with Jaehaerys in her arms.

He was such a good child. And so sweet-smelling. Daella stared down at him in his crib and felt that she couldn't wait for the birth of her own child – the first of the many ones she would have with Alor. "Sleep, little one," she murmured. He was an easy one to put to sleep – Rhae said that most often, he would sing, murmur, and drone something to himself before drifting off. He made no demands of the people around him. This time, it was no different; soon, Daella was back to the solar where her sister sat with two men. Daella immediately blushed.

"Why am I the last one to find out?" Rhae cried out, the relief in her voice unmistakable, her joy evident. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Why, really? Maybe because Daella, quite selfishly, hadn't wanted to share her joyful secret yet with the one who had wronged her? Now, especially, under the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes, she could find no answer at all.

Alor rose. "My lady," he said. "I think we need to talk."

She nodded and Aegon and Rhae slipped away.

Alor made a step toward her and took her hands in his own. "It will be hard, you know," he said.

Again, she nodded. "There will be all kinds of talks that I've wed you just to climb upwards. I want to be sure that you know what you're getting into."

"I don't care what people said," Daella claimed.

He regarded her thoughtfully, his eyelashes almost obscuring his dark eyes from view. "Do you really?" he asked. "Are you ready to spend your entire life known as a victim of my greed?"

Of course, that was what people would think. A recently legitimized bastard wedding a trueborn princess – there was no way around those speculations. He'd be known derisively as the Dornishman beneath her petticoats; she would be seen as a victim of her own bad judgment. Could she really live with this? Or should she intentionally demean herself – and him, as well?

"Well, my lady?" Alor asked again. "Will you choose me?"

Daella's answer was spontaneous, immediate, right from the heart. "Yes," she said and fell into his arms. "Yes, I choose you and I exalt you, no matter what. Always, in all things." She looked at him. There was no mistaking the genuine feeling behind those dark eyes. Her face brightened, she felt suddenly reborn, as free as she hadn't felt since Aegon and Rhae's elopement. "I choose you with all that I have."

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. So, that was the end of the story. Stay tuned for the sequel, A Dragon in Chains.


End file.
